Washed Up
by horrendoushaddock
Summary: Oneshot. Making up for lost time isn't quite as easy as Joxter had thought it would be.


**A/N:** The first installment of the Goofy Movie AU I started over on tumblr.

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**Washed Up**

This was the Fillyjonk's fault, and no one could or would convince Snufkin otherwise.

You see, no one had really expected Joxter to come back a second time, much less without Hodgkins coercing him along. He'd come back to visit with Moominpappa again, eager to catch up without the fuss and muss of such a large gathering buzzing around him. This time, it was only to be himself and the troll.

Except, that wasn't quite how things panned out. Moominhouse was a lot busier than expected, even without all the commotion that had come with Hodgkins, the Muddler, the Fuzzy, the Mymble and her thirty-some-odd children. Moomintroll was pleasant enough, but Joxter could have done without his many, many questions. Little My, on the other hand, did nothing to hide her distrust and dislike of the Mumrik.

"What kind of father just up and leaves his kid?" she had asked without shame or hesitance. Joxter hadn't really had an answer for that, much to his own surprise. However, before he could think of something to say one way or another, Moomin was already grabbing Little My up and taking her away.

"Little My, you can't just go asking things like that!" Joxter could hear the young moomin scolding her.

Moominpappa had apologized on her behalf, but Joxter hadn't really expected anything less. Most Mymbles seemed to be lacking filters, in one way or another.

And then the Fillyjonk had come by. The initial visit had no malicious intent, as she had only wanted to visit with the family. However, upon being introduced to Joxter, her mood had taken a sharp turn, and for the worst at that. She hadn't been around the last time Joxter had come to visit, and there were no holds barred when it came to what she had to say.

"Perhaps if poor Snufkin had his father around, he wouldn't have grown into such a worrisome little vagabond," she said, nose in the air, paws fussing with the handle of her umbrella. "Pulling up signs, stealing fruit, getting into with law enforcement!"

Joxter had been mildly proud to hear of his son's accomplishments, despite the fact that these were things he should not have been proud of. However, Fillyjonk's umbrella had come up and then down so quickly, he hadn't had the time to brace himself. The cushioned rod bumped against the top of his head, nearly knocking his hat off in the process.

"Wipe that grin from your face, Mr. Joxter! Such disgraceful behavior is nothing to be proud of! It would probably do you both well to turn yourselves around." Her nose was in the air again before she trotted off.

Moominpappa, again, tried his best to apologize for someone else's behavior.

And that was ultimately how found Joxter standing outside of Snufkin's tent. Not particularly because the Fillyjonk was right, but because it was brought to his attention - however indirectly - that he really didn't know much about his son.

Though it had taken some time and, perhaps, a little more effort than Joxter would have liked, he did manage to convince Snufkin to at least go fishing with him.

That had all transpired a few days ago, and now the two of them were floating rather inconveniently down a river on a capsized boat. He would have liked to blame Joxter for the all of it, as that would have made things so much easier. But even through his anger, Snufkin could recognize that Mrs. Fillyjonk and her unsolicited opinions were the ones to blame. Had she left well enough alone, Joxter would have spent his time with Moominpappa and been on his way again without giving him so much as a wayward second glance. And perhaps that was wrong, but it wouldn't have bothered him. He'd gone his whole life without knowing his father, one more moment without him wouldn't have mattered.

But Joxter had looked sincere when he asked if they could travel a little ways together and go fishing. He had sounded earnest when he said that he wanted to make some sort of an effort to get to know his son. Snufkin hadn't been able to think of any reason to deny the request, and so he had accepted. At the very least, fishing and a bit of travel sounded good.

Except travelling with Joxter was nothing like what he had expected. Joxter was unkempt and disorganized, and would sooner sleep in or under a tree than in a tent. Not that that was a particularly bad thing, Snufkin realized soon enough. While it wasn't necessarily unpleasant, the older mumrik had a very strong and distinguished smell to him. It was a very wild and sharp scent, overwhelming in its own way.

It was Joxter's recklessness that found them in the river. When they had come to a fork in the river, Snufkin had tried to tell Joxter they should have gone down the other way, but Joxter had insisted he knew what he was doing.

It didn't take long after that for the rapids to come into view. From there, there had been no time for them to navigate around them or through them properly. Before they knew it, the boat had tipped, and most of their gear and supplies has been lost to the river. It was all Snufkin could do to somehow hold onto his hat.

Joxter gave a sputtering, inward laugh, using one hand to hold onto the boat while the other wiped water from his face.

"What's so funny?" Snufkin demanded, his brow knitted tightly together.

"I just wanted to go fishing with my boy, and now look at this - " He used one hand to gesture to their current situation. The only saving grace in the moment was that the rapids seemed to be dying down.

"If you had just listened to me - " Snufkin started, and shook his head. He gritted his teeth together, knowing there would be no point in arguing this with Joxter again. They were both ridiculously stubborn, and even if they didn't know each other very well, Snufkin knew there'd have been no changing Joxter's mind. Instead, he decided to focus his frustration and anger on another part of what Joxter had said.

"And I'm not your boy!" he snapped, and the words came out much harsher than he had intended. But he didn't regret them. "I've grown up! I have my own life now!"

"I know that!" Joxter snapped back, and it was possibly the loudest Snufkin had ever heard his voice reach. though it only lasted for a moment. He looked at Snufkin, took in the anger on his face, and found he had to look away - to the boat, to the river, to his own hands. Anything was better than looking directly at his son at the moment.

"I just… Wanted to be a part of it," he admitted quietly, so quiet the dull roar of the rapids nearly drowned him out.

Snufkin's expression slowly softened, and he found he also couldn't look at Joxter for the time being. His father had looked so disheartened and unsure, and Snufkin realized that his own anger had been misplaced. He never should have expected travelling and fishing with Joxter to be anything like he was used to. Why would it have been? Some small part of him was speaking up, telling him he should have enjoyed the experience for what it was worth. Worse things had happened, and would happen, than this.

With the water calmer below and around them, Snufkin was able to pull himself up onto the boat finally. Joxter followed suit, and sat with his back mostly facing Snufkin while he worked to wring out his hat. Snufkin watched him for a few seconds, and then turned his back to his father, too, sighing. They stayed this way for a few long minutes, only the rush of water breaking the silence between them.

"You know," Snufkin finally spoke up, though neither turned to face the other just yet. A quiet 'hmm' from Joxter at least assured Snufkin that the other was listening. "We should probably get the boat ashore and set up camp."

"I suppose you're right," Joxter said quietly.

"And then we can try all of this again tomorrow," Snufkin continued, and his back was still facing Joxter when the other finally did turn to look at him. A small smile found his lips, but he found it in himself not to say anything just yet. He had expected Snufkin to want to leave without him once they reached shore, and he quickly recognized this as an opportunity he shouldn't squander.

They would try this again tomorrow, in better spirits and with a better understanding of one another.


End file.
